A Drinking Club with a Running Problem

Yes, many intrigued hashers turned up at The Institute(1) for “a very special and secret (yes, I said secret) hash planned for you, courtesy of Shop ‘N Fuck and your very own RA, Tits of Steel. What could it be, those prostitutes you always wanted, a whole circle of side-sides(2), who knows.”

Our hares, Tits of Steel and Shop ‘N Fuck, had previously conspired and reconnoitered and semi-prelaid a Very Interesting (and not very long) trail. I saw them leave about 6:40. It was after 8:00 when the every-enlarging pack were called outside for Chalk Talk (4), featuring Manual Fiesta jumping around the familiar marks and one unfamiliar BC ? which *someCause* had sloppily tried to make into an equation 0>BC>? but looked more like Q – B Pacman eating infinity. Our Virgins were introduced: Just Damien, courtesy of “Just Liz,” Just Greg, who came (!) with newly-transplanted, semi-virgin Just John, and Just Kevin; Just Jenna definitely made him cum. And soon we were off looking for . . .

Trail. The pack scattered in every direction until someone ventured far enough south on 12th to find On One, On Two, On-On , Check! Turn, On one, on two on-on Check! Lather, rinse, repeat. My favorite kind of trail with way too many checks leading us ’round and ’round until finally . . . Up. SnF had kindly provided his own non-rusty, ladder and support for the pack to climb up onto the Ex-Reading RR line above the industrial leftovers of the city. After squeezing through a hole in a platform we were greeted by a neat BN and the instruction SWING. Sure enough hanging from ropes tied way-way-way up on an old branch of an older tree was an adult-sized rubber swing.(5) Ms. Curtains provided the oomph needed for a nice little ride. So to speak. (6) From there flour led through the overgrowth and rocks (7) to the Real Beer Near and a Large Tire Swing, occupied by Urine Luck for the duration. We hung around for a bit, enjoying the fancy Beers, the can of OFF!, the View, and friendly conversation (8) until dusk fell (or was pushed) and we traversed the viaduct back towards land and followed the flour . . .

Back to the Bar.(9) Narragansett Pounders were the beverage of choice for the evening.
And then Circle.
RA’s: Fiesta –Tits
Hares: Shop ‘n – Steel
First and Last In: Urine /++
Virgins: Just Damien <- “Just Liz“; Just Greg <- Just John; Just Kevin <- Just Jenna (10)
Autohashers: Visiting BiFuckles, Just John, Groundhog Lay (from a ’76ers take back their Ben Franklin logo event), Semen on the Poop Deck, Scrummy Seconds and Just Maureen, and special guest star, One Inch In.
LTNS (Long Time No See): One Inch, Just Lily, Soft Core Analyst (John from Ardmore, from Glenside), Not in MY Hair.
[Note: my notes here are pretty sloppy. Actually, not so pretty sloppy. So here’s the Reader’ Digest Condensed version.]Cockmaster and Commander for overachieving, Just Amy for eat Tater Tots which are UnAmerican, C++, Semen Poop D.,and Gay Matthews Lamb (for hinting that Just Lily might have been born, um, out-of-state)Urine Luck – no shirt, Cause – something about that swing, Soft Core for not making it rain when he needed a shower, Just Randy for shopping. One Inch and Rear for ??, Just Maureen for being in the bathroom when we needed her, Just Damien for looking mortified at our little ditties, Flounder for racing, Just Steven (ph?) for blood on trail, Just Kevin – hat offense, Just Alex – too fast, Justs Randy Katherine and Liz for imitating Gossip Girls.“Just Liz” for New Shoes.
Birthday Side-sides to Semen (PD), NinmyH, J.Randy
Then . . .“Just Liz” – get on your knees and tell us stories about your sexual experiences. She couldn’t beCause she blacked out. Tell us who made those yummy cupcakes a few weeks back (that got Bukkaki in the Kitchen named). She did. What happened in second grade? Slipped on the Monkey Bars and hurt herself somewhere secret. She’s a Math teacher. She trains Animals. She was not named Strawberry CumCake. Or Slippery When Wet. Or Black out Whore. No, “Just Liz” is now . . . Penetration is Elementary.

Over and Out,
On-On!
(and nyahh, nyahh CYHMN?)

Cause for Blindness

____________________________________________

(1) The last time we were here it was 60 degrees colder and *we* had to call around to find an open bar for a beer near. And the roof leaked.
(2) Indeed.
(3) Just PJ has a grrreat voice. We had a mini-diva-off. And he treated me to 2 shots. Of water.
(4) Overheard waiting for chalk talk: “I had to kick the head off and suck it up”
(5) No, not adult-themed, and no stirrups.
(6) see # 5 above.
(7) Not so much fun for those who still ware 5-finger foot sleeves. (I’m looking at you C++, didn’t you get the memo?)
(8) Overheard while quaffing ” Yes, I want an enema!” Although a headlamp would have been more helpful.
(9) Total distance maybe a mile?
(10) Are we sensing a theme here?

For the record, anything I write is a complete fabrication. All characters appearing in this or any other trash I have written are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The BFM is the driving force behind hashing (and half assed hashing) in Philadelphia and the tri-state area. Yeah, I said it. I put forth this trash and the events of last night as proof of this statement. Last night was a love fest of astronomical proportions as all were gearing up for what is certain to be a Green Dress Run to top all Dress Runs which have proceeded. We drew a collection of eye candy from our own BFM bloodline as well as those from afar because we are awesome. I offer this list of studs on hand as proof of our virility and strength:

Sternum&Rectum (a film producing guru), LittleFuckingWinkie (his cock seeded the BFM), HornyHands (with firm yet gentle caress), CockMaster&Commander (built like GOD), ManualFiesta (the most charming mystery of girls desires and resident RA), RubberRipper (fastest rock musician on two feet and even capable of handling our hash horn), Flounder (dashing distinguished gentleman), UrineLuck (the most desired gigolo since Richard Gere…with a bigger cock), SoftCoreAnalyst (the sweetest man a woman could want to fuck), ChasezBoyz (the bad boy giving soulless gingers something to live up to), GayMatthewsLamb (dances like Travolta, sings like Sinatra, and responsible for all the good times), HolePatrol (The fastest mother fucker you will ever meet and our financial rock), TourDe’Puke (the legendary hasher of world renown), Vaginacologist (Plato, Aristotle, Socrates…morons), TubeCock (his cock IS that big…it isn’t the exchange rate), S&MMan (saves lives by day…our souls by night), SemenOnThePoopDeck (handsome sailor with a satisfied woman in every port), Taco…IBarelyKnowHer (with great size comes…a very pleased woman), DancingFool (saving the world every hour of every day), RearEngineer (the only reason a woman would swoon for George Clooney is they haven’t met Rear yet), BarebackMountain (making the 300 look like pussies), GroundhogLay (flashes a smile that makes women moist), and JustJ.B. (just met him and I can tell all the ladies can’t wait to meet him too), UncleBadTouch (Calif. can’t make this guy soft…especially when a woman is near), PostMasterGenital (Only his good looks outshine his drunken stupidity). NotInMyHair (we named him, he’s ours, don’t scorn us).

I offer this list of goddesses as proof of our beauty and wisdom:

TitsOfSteel (great tits, yes, and so much more and resident RA), WishBoneher (the sexy princess of punishment), Stacks (Queen of the BFM), LumpNeckMuncher (a bronze goddess, minx of the hash), ScoobyGoo (yeah, that was her…cause she parties like a rock star), JustDeborah (looking way too good not to be training for something), AfterSchoolDelight (those tits…THAT ASS!), JustJulie (a tasty new treat for the BFM), CauseForBlindness (don’t call her the matriarch as she’s got the tits of a 20 year old), JugStains (our brassy beauty), BarbaraBush (funny, foxy, and fine), HoldTheSausage (rocking the hard body, working it 30 days straight), ChorizoCurtains (Gorgeous brunette who draws all the boys attention), GrandfatherCock (whoa…where did she come from, so hot), Cmen++ (resting beautiful face is more like it), JustAlex (everyman’s wet dream), AuschwitzHoleIsThat (makes cute the new sexy), JustAmy (as much as the boys want her…HANDS OFF…that’s property of Taco). Seriously, I could masturbate to each and every one of these stone cold foxes and still find it in me to go a second round.

As each and every one of the aforementioned attendees entered the bar they were greeted with a rousing cheer as if we were all anticipating being regaled by a funny quip. There was a lot of hugging and shaking of hands and kisses on the cheek. We were god damn respectable. In fact it was the non-hashers at the bar that were loud and raucous for once. Those that were ready to brave the cold were bubbly with anticipation right up until they learned that Hole Patrol was our hare and worse yet, Tube Cock was co-haring. So as ManualFiesta chimed in with “Chalk Talk!” the pack was as willing to take off as an A320 Airbus was from Philadelphia International Airport. Even our Hash Horn RubberRipper was balking at the idea. But soon their spirits were revived as they learned that there would be BEER! Near and SHOTS! Near and an option to Turkey out of a long trail and so our Hash Horn did us proud and tempted fate by putting his lips to the cold horn metal.

Now I being of sound body and mind realized that the bar was warm, the food was good, and the BEER! Was quenching so I stayed in the bar with some of the sexiest harriets known to man. I am no fool…but I did see a Dancing Fool come strolling in the bar wearing a suit and tie and…dirty nasty hash sneakers, but far better dressed than I have ever been. Once again proof of how great the BFM is as it inspired even Dancing Fool to dress for our occasion. And even as the pack pranced off more hashers kept arriving because we are awesome.

So since I was not on trail I can only relate second hand what had happened from the three waves of people that came through the door prior to last in. The first wave crashed through the spring driven overly painted green bi-panel doors of Bonner’s speaking of cold weather, bullshit marks, and a Shot Check at Logan Square that while tasty left them feeling as though the shot was tasting them back (something about a gelatinous ball at bottom that felt like a tongue licking them back). Needless to say from there they got lost and just bounded on back in doubling the size of hashers at the bar.

The next wave of people that came galloping in were those that opted for the turkey trail that was positioned immediately after the first BEER! Near at Cherry Street Tavern. This group spoke of much of the same as the earlier wave with the exception of a bridge, getting fooled into believing 30th Street Station was a destination, and making tracks along the Schuylkill which was finally cleared of all the mess from this awful winter.

The third and final wave of people waltzed in like the walking wounded. Complaints of not seeing the turkey split as they would have taken that on-in, even more bridges, only having found salvation at BEER! Near Graces Tavern over at the end of the Grays Ferry Bridge, and being carded and booted from said tavern by a man with a very impressive mustache (see number 4) (is it possible that it was LittleFuckingWinkie that got carded and booted? What are you fucking new?).

So with everyone in and people already dancing to the tunes laid out by our temporary DJ, Lumpy the rousing call of HASH CASH was yelled out soon followed by CIRCLE UP! So as the 45 of us (wait, we lost WishBoneHer to “I have to work tomorrow”, Stacks to “You kids have fun”, Sternum&Rectum to “I have movies to produce”, BarbaraBush to “Taking selfies in front of traffic”, HoldTheSausage to “30 days in a row…can’t break the streak” and DancingFool to “Whatever it is that DancingFool does”), 39 of us piled in to the back room of Bonner’s and to the sounds of TitsOfSteel and ManualFiesta yelling:

CIRCLE UP:

HARES: HolePatrol gets the credit for this ever so warm, shiggy full, overly marked, bridgeless, debacle without enough beer checks. TubeCock didn’t help matters as he contributed to the first of his four trails this weekend (Overachieving Ass Clown Award). We sang “And the Hairs…”

FIRST IN LAST IN: Vaginacologist made his way in first as part of that first wave of lost hashers. RubberRipper our sad little hash horn was last in with CauseForBlindness on his arm. We sand “Meet the Hashers…”

VIRGINS: We definitely had some hot and sexy virgins join us this week…more proof of our growing greatness and dominance. We had sweet and sexy JustJulie (HolePatrol made her cum…so it’s like that is it?), hot mama JustAmy (Taco…IBarelyKnowHer made her cum…and he has living proof of this accomplishment), and JustJ.B (GroundhogLay made him cum in very dapper attire no less).

VISITORS: Because we are so grand, visitors for Green Dress needed to cum out two days early in order to be a part of our grandness. This included those from kennels almost as good as ours H5 (LumpNeckMuncher …so sexy, ScoobyGoo …still standing, and PostMasterGenital …who needs to learn that BEER! goes in him not on him and all over the floor), Summit (NotInMyHair …who needs to learn that he is a BFM not that Summit bullshit), San Francisco (UncleBadTouch …so dead to us), DCRH (S&MMan …at least he stayed close), LHV (GrandfatherCock …is there more like her where she came from?), and finally Takes It Up The Ass Every Wednesday (TourDe’Puke …our legend who of course would lead them all in song). We tried to sing “Oh There Are No Real Hashers At Penn State…) but it was shout down by all the Penn Staters in anticipation of where it was obviously going.

CUMS LATELYS: S&MMan (he was off saving lives or some shit down in MD where seriously, are they really all that worth saving?), RearEngineer (he was off GM’ing some other lesser hash from the Philadelphia region), JustDeborah (have you seen her? She is obviously training for something long distance…racist), RubberRipper (he was off trying to learn how to get us all out of jail where we all will be after Green Dress this weekend), LitteFuckingWinkie (he was off not wanting to take credit for the awesomeness that we have become). We sang “Oh Where Oh Where Were You Last Week…”

AUTO HASHERS (also known as the smartest and warmest hashers): RearEngineer, ChorizoCurtains, Taco…IBarelyKnowHer, JustAmy, AuschwitzHoleIsThat, GroundHogLay, AfterSchoolDelight, JustJ.B., Shop&Fuck, and BarebackMountain. We sang “A Sol A Sol A Soldier I Will Be…”

ACCUSATIONS:

Round 1:

HolePatrol via ManualFiesta for what was an outrageously long trail on a mindnumbingly cold night.

LittleFuckingWinkie via RearEngineer for five year spans between hashes…way too long for cum lately.

RubberRipper via ChorizoCurtains for resting his “horn” on her shoulder and still falling off the chair despite being completely sober.

CauseForBlindness via NotInMyHair for her halfway through trail ordering a sandwich in order to survive the length of the epic journey.

NotInMyHair via AuschwitzHoleIsThat for thinking that all Jews look alike and mistaking her for CumTestDummy.

And we sang “Hot Vagina For Breakfast…”

Round 2:

GayMatthewsLamb via S&MMan for sporting the Kid N Play hairdo.

RubberRipper via TitsOfSteel for not being horny enough on trail.

And we sang “24 Hours To Go…:

Round 3:

GayMatthewsLamb via ChasezBoyz for letting somebody do it in his ear.

UrineLuck via HolePatrol for eating soup on trail…which was only the second half of his meal.

CockMaster&Commander via ManualFiesta for his racist behavior of running fast or in some event or something.

UncleBadTouch via ChorizoCurtains for trying to look all innocent in the corner…we know what you’re up to.

HolePatrol via AuschwitzHoleIsThat for having to drink what the waitress gave him in free BEER!

One year ago today in the closet of Bonner’s GayMatthewsLamb convinced AuschwitzHoleIsThat to make out with him. And it is the greatest thing that has ever happened to him. They are so fucking cute! So we sang “Love Me Tender…”

RearEngineer is the GM of some lesser but still pretty fucking awesome Philadelphia Hash House Harriers and they are hosting the Philly Green Dress Run this Saturday. Don’t miss it!

S&MMan will be day drinking tomorrow…er today…well it already happened so make sure you tell us all about it.

TitsOfSteel will be haring the Philly Hash next Saturday March 22nd at 2:30pm, pack off by 3:00pm.

The Green Dress Weekend doesn’t end with us, it only just begins.

Philly Full Moon Hash is hosting a pre-lube at Drinkers on 2nd and Market Street

Philly Phairweather Hash is hosting the Fat Boy Run on Sunday at noon at Dirty Frank’s…IT’S SHOWTUNE SUNDAY!

And so circle was closed and there was motor boating, ass to mouth, and the trying on of green dresses far too tight for physical pleasure…and we all rejoiced before heading over to BarebackMountains pad to make the night never end…this shit is just to fucked up for me to have made up on my own…ON-ON.

Having enjoyed a mild weekend, Mr. Polar Vortex visited us as we gathered at South Philly Bar. BarbaraBush, JustMaddy, and After School Delight were there when Flounder and I arrived. Groundhog (Hedgehog) Lay introduced us to Just Roomate (Just Nick) and “his” virgin, Just Mike. Our fearless leader, Gay Matthew’s Lamb soon arrived with snow colored flour, followed by (in order of appearance) Commander Captain Crunch (Cockmaster and Commander), Ch-ch-ch-Chasez Boyz, C-men ++, PunaniPuri, Manual Fiesta, Auschwitz Hole is That? (I had to ask her for help ‘Cause I’m not used to spelling Auschwitz), Hole Patrol, Tits O’ Steel, Just Andrew and Just Brianna (Semi-Virgins) with Virgin Virgins Just Matt and Just Ann(e?), Taco? I Barely Know Her, Side Show Boob, er, Bob Job, and additional Virgin Just Jeff. I think Ms. Delight must have been prelubing for a while ‘Cause I overheard “You called me fat!” “You’re a big fat c@ck!” and “Tits for Beer!” before most of us had a chance to finish downloading Twitter, or quaffing pre-trail beer.

At 8:00 Mr. Fiesta tried to herd the herd for chalk talk. At 8:05 he came back in to try to herd the herd. .. It was really cold outside, so the pack was a tad reluctant. Finally assembled, the Virgins were introduced (Groundhog Lay made them come one way or another), and the X F • • • BN SN ? were ‘splain’d (by Ms. Steel) , before the dancing, jumping, really cold M. (Pants? Who needs pants? I’ll just do trail in my winter shorts) Fiesta sent us off. Trail went something like this:

X X

XX

#

X X

X X X

? • X

(“If they hadn’t made the chalk talk so big, they could’ve put some marks.”) Until we somehow found ourselves in one of the row homes (G. L.) for shots of SoCo & Lime. Lots of shots. Then out the backdoor (so to speak) to find the SN in the alley. Then suddenly there were actual marks, leading to many more Xs, crossing Washington, Broad, Washington . . . Then, ? ? into Ray’s Grumpy Birthday Bar, where we all carded (“I’m older than you, probably.”) and took over the slightly less smoky back room for a round of Yuengling Premium. Chasez Boyz must have been chasing boys, or stopped at Mickey D’s, ‘Cause he turned up late (better than never) for the BN . (“How did you find us?” “There’s an arrow.” The bartender had washed away the BN. I can’t understand why he doesn’t like customers.) Eventually, we r*n the last yards back to the ON IN . . .

where we were greeted by Hole Patrol requesting our Hash Cash, several Autohashers, and the welcome-ish sight of PBR Pounders, being used to “fill” cups for m.

Ms. Steel began with “What did everybody think…” “Ziggy zaggy, ziggy zaggy, oy, oy,oy.” <drink> “Can we have our Hares in circle.” Enter After School Delight and Babs. Trail was declared, too short, not cold enough, too many marks, not enough shot checks, and we all sang “S-H-I, T-T-Y, T-R-A-I-L”

Pay attention Virgins ‘Cause you’re next. Enter:

Just Ann(e?) and Just Matt – Just Brianna and Just Andrew made them come (semi-virgins whom Hedgehog/Groundhog Lay made come).Just Jeff (Groundhog/Hedgehog Lay). (Now I know why his name is “Groundhog Lay” R.I.P Harold Ramis.) ((Okay, that’s not the real reason, which I now know, but it’s a story he can tell his mother. (See BFM # 523 GL bares his . . . soul to an NPR correspondent)). We sang “We’ve Got Virgins,” (surprise, surprise)[ end parentheses].

Who were our First In(s) and Last In(s)? Punani -Patrol /Side Show- Blindness. (For some reason I didn’t write down and I don’t remember what we sang (‘Cause I’m old.) Maybe we were Born So Beautiful??) [I lied about the parentheses.]

Enter Autohashers: Taco (never left camp), He’s a Lesbian (HAL), Just Ozzie, Bareback Mountain, Semen on the Poopdeck, all of whom apparently have “a Small Dick…after all.”

Next up, Comes Latelies: Just Maddy, HAL, Mr. Poopdeck, Side Show B J, andBareback for the only verse of “Where, O Where Were You Last Hash?”

Accusations:
Chasez Boyz for stopping at McDonald’s before the Beer NearThe Haresfor not leaving any marks on (the first leg of) trail.
Cause for Blindness for trying to be cool and download Twitter from the Interwebs.Side Show Bob Job for baring her midriff (is this not acceptable hash behavior(u)r?)
The Semi-Virgins and the Virgins for pointing/not warning about pointing (next week: New Shoes!)
“Down Down, Down your beer to pay for your crime, Quit complaining about the taste, there’s no sperm this time.”

Manual Fiesta for pointingCmen ++ for texting on trail (but she was talking to her grandmother when she espied Punani and promptly joined trail.)
When one seaman drinks … S on the Poopdeck and Cockmaster and Commander (I learned something new today!)JustMaddy for “wearing her uniform” (a green sweatshirt) and thenPunani Puri for not being able to tell “a Brit from a Mick.” (HAL’s words, not mine)
Why were they born so beautiful?

Hole Patrol and Punani Puri for skipping the beer near.
The Hares (Babs and Delight) for picking a smokey barJust Ozzie for something – maybe never r*nning trail, Just Shows Up at the Bar.
Some, none or all of whom may have enjoyed “Hot Vagina for your Breakfast.”

February 20th, 2014. In Kiev people were dying for speaking out against a government teeming with corruption while here in the states a couple of guys sold a phone app for $19B which could have bought all of the Ukraine and still had enough left over to pay hash cash, beer checks, and on-after beer for the BFM forever (or maybe two weeks the way you lushes drink). Since none of us could figure out how to create an app that would supply us with endless amounts of beer we thought we could show our support for those in the Ukraine by laying trail in a place almost certain to get at least one of us shot…West Philly. So off we headed to, if not already a BFM favorite bar then certainly will be, Millcreek Tavern. Those of us who came out on such a lovely break in the weather of the winter of our undescendable balls included:

Who the fuck is Just Ryan? Oh, he’s the guy from NPR who is doing a piece on the BFM and hashing. So we were all greeted by his big, fuzzy, hard, battery operated microphone and one by one we fell prey to his interrogations (and possibly tagged for future oppression much like those over in the Ukraine). I couldn’t help but notice how some of our hashers seemed to bask in the attention that was being heaped upon them by Just Ryan. If he had hung around longer than just chalk talk I am pretty sure he would have gotten at least a handy (and that’s just from me). But the competitive spirit was strong in the pack as we all eagerly awaited Team USA to beat the shit out of those fucking Cunucks (and with two amazing last minute goals Team USA won the game and our hearts…my trash, so shut the fuck up). So without our token Canadian with which to whip on we all eagerly drew straws. Cock Master and Commander, who was just back from doing a tour in Afghanistan, was rewarded for his bravery with having to go back into a war zone as the hare. Our GM thought that sending CM&C out alone to be shot on the streets of West Philly after surviving Afghanistan was not very kind so he decided to get shot with him by co-haring (TWO WEEKS IN A ROW AS HARE! OVER ACHIEVING ASS CLOWN!).

So Tits of Steel and Manual Fiesta lead Chalk Talk while Just Ryan recorded our discretions with much mortification and regret realizing he would have to edit his copious recordings down to about ten seconds of censored sound bites. But soon we were off on…

TRAIL:

Our Chalk Talk true trail pointed us south as we all cringed with the fear that death would soon be upon us. After a couple of blocks we were well checked at 42nd and Woodland as the pack spread out down the streets scratching their heads until somebody finally decided to try the stairs into the courtyard of the U. of Sciences campus where trail lead us to a 43rd St. check which went north (away from certain death…and we all rejoiced). We were then greeted by an early true trail west on Chester Ave before being BC2 to the north side of Clark Park which then lead us north up 44th St. We then got checked on Osage Ave. The hare must have decided that he witnessed enough bombings in Afghanistan as trail continued north instead of heading down Osage with its history of its own bombings. A couple of blocks further north and we got checked on Spruce where trail went East (and relative safety) through all kinds of urban shiggy (unshoveled sidewalks and huge patches of melting ice). We were again checked at 42nd St. where trail went north and was kindly marked by the pack using twigs. A block later we were checked again and went East on Locust before getting BC4 to an incredibly tight and worrisome alley south.

It was at this point that our virgin, Just Dick (seriously it is like he came with a built in hash name already) yelled out, “Fuck that! It’s bullshit. Shouldn’t they put an X there?” Oh virgin, how soon you will learn. The seedy alley, with all its potential for leading to my losing of my anal virginity, lead us out onto Spruce and a true trail east. I stopped there to note this mark as I looked across the street at the rest of the pack going west on Spruce having ignored the great big true trail I was standing next to. Oh well, fuck’em. While I was standing there a winded Chorizo Curtains came up and said she saw the hare over on Locust heading towards Penn’s Locust Walk but couldn’t catch him. Damn military conditioned hare. Off she went to go see if she could short cut while I stuck around to see if the pack would ever right itself, which it did and then got checked at 39th and Spruce which as foreseen by CC went north towards the Locust Walk and continued past all the confused coeds right on to the BEER NEAR! Cavanaugh’s University City, a hash friendly BFM favorite.

And there was much drinking of the frothy brew. We rejoiced and made merry as we were all in good spirits from the pleasant weather and lack of bodily harm on trail. A particularly muscled gentleman with overly gelled hair and a wide open button down shirt provided much entertainment as he eye fucked his waitress in a most lascivious way. It was so shameful I almost asked him to join the hash. It was during this entertainment that Hole Patrol was poking fun of Chorizo’s neon hot pink necklace all while Wishboner was retrieving Hole Patrol’s which he had just unknowingly dropped on the ground. Karma? Soon we were out again into the night going north to a check on Chestnut and got fucked going west before finding trail east and then BC2 to 38th St. where trail went South to another BC that lead us to the 1920 Commons Bridge where the pack stood around for quite some time as we couldn’t figure out where trail went since it obviously couldn’t go west cause that would have crossed trail…but of course it did go west where the hares narrowly skirted crossing trail before giving up and dropping an ON-IN recognizing that they were fucked if they didn’t. And so we triumphantly made our way in for…

CIRCLE:

HARES: Cock Master and Commander with Gay Matthews Lamb who used too much flour on trail, didn’t find enough icy patches or rapey alleys, had too few checks and definitely not enough back checks, in a neighborhood that was far too safe and in weather that was way too comfortable. We sang S-H-I-T-T-Y T-R-A-I-L…

VIRGINS: We were provided two new studs which had all the harriets quivering with delight. Just Nick (Groundhog Lay made him cum) and Just Dick (seriously that is just perfect) the fireman who was sitting at the bar when we came in (Lumpy made him cum because who could resist her). NOT Just Ryan cause he didn’t do trail and thus did not lose his virginity. And seconds after being introduced the RA’s fucked up the intro multiple times getting ziggy zaggied until eventually they lead us in Back Against the Wall…

FIRST IN/LAST IN: The virgin, Just Dick, the fireman who was sitting at the bar just off of a 24hr shift and with already a few drinks in him with his work shoes on was first in…we really are a bunch of fat lazy bastards. Last in was the virgin Just Nick as he came in with the super hot and sexy trio of Splash Back, Just Alicia, and Just Angie (well played, virgin, well played). We muscled our way through Doe Ray Me as Tits of Steel insisted the song started on Ray.

VISITORS: Sooner or later somebody is going to come visit us.

AUTO HASHERS: See Above…but Radar actually left before we got back for circle so it was Just Ozzie, back from training for the next winter Olympics for the skeleton with the bruises and all, all by himself. We sang It’s A Small Dick After All…

CUMS LATELY: Just Deborah (she cums in from way out in the suburbs where they got like 60in of snow and are still digging out…get a snow blower), Cock Master and Commander (some bullshit story about having been deployed when really he was just trying to get laid before he “shipped off” and couldn’t come back until enough time passed to make it believable), and Just Joel (I am still waiting to hear his excuse). We sang Where Were You Last Week…

ACCUSATIONS:

ROUND ONE: Just Angie, Just Alicia, Lumpy and Wishboner for not already being hot enough as it is that they had to impersonate Auto Hashers by getting dressed up in sexy non-running attire when less clothes would have been better (and Just Alicia even put on perfume…which smelled amazing compared to rankness of the rest of the sweaty hash). Shop & Fuck for not having a beer before chalk talk. Horney Hands for soliciting NPR to advertise for the BFM. Hole Patrol for all his rules when there are no rules in hashing. And when one soulless ginger drinks so does Just Ozzie, Wishboner, Chases Boyz, Chef Boy or Horse and Tits of Steel. Just Dick for yelling, “I WON THE HASH” after being first in. And when one virgin drinks so does Just Nick (we were working hard on getting these virgins hammered so we could have our way with them). And we sang Roll Back My Foreskin…

ROUND TWO: Horney Hands for trying to convince Chorizo Curtains that he might be her father…while hitting on her. Just Nick for attempting to shove his cup up his ass instead of tipping it over his head after his virgin down down song. And when one virgin drinks so does Just Dick. And even though Just Nick should have paid better attention when instructed on what to do by Tits of Steel and Manual Fiesta (although they fucked that shit up and probably should have drank for this accusation also), Groundhog Lay should have told him what to do before the hash so he drank too. Chorizo Curtains for being so “Polish-ed”. We sang What A Wank, What A Wank…

ROUND THREE: Just Dick for racist behavior for “winning the hash”. And when one racist drinks so does Hole Patrol and Shop & Fuck for trying to break Groundhog Lay’s spirit at the end of the trail. Softcore Analyst for bringing all the crappy weather with him. We sang Would You Like A Finger In Your…

ROUND FOUR: Just Angie and Just Alicia for acting like the hash wasn’t hard enough. Oh…and remember earlier when Hole Patrol lost his necklace while bitching about other people’s pink necklaces…it was now that Wishboner brought that up. Chases Boyz made some sort of nonsensical accusation to Chorizo Curtains about taunting traffic…so they both drank. Just Joel for looking like a thirsty bastard. We sang Dinah Won’t You Blow Me…

ROUND FIVE: Just Nick for not being able to hold his liquids and needing to take a pee break mid circle. Gay Matthews Lamb for his constant over achieving by being prepared with flour and straws and haring and promising to set bars three weeks in advance and doing an awesome job as GM. And when one hare drinks so does Cock Master and Commander. We sang She Likes It In The Kitchen…

FINAL ROUND: Just Deborah for asking Hole Patrol early in the week if he was going to be hashing this week when Hole Patrol doesn’t even know what he will be doing in two hours. Lumpy for relative insanity. Just Angie and Just Alicia for looking bored. We sang When It’s Incest Time In Texas…

ANNOUNCEMENTS:

Chases Boyz got a rego for Stink-O De Mayo the weekend of May 5th…see, dreams really do cum true.

The Inter-Americas Hash in Portland is down to less than 300 regos left (it is capped at 1,500) and they will most likely sell out soon so better get one now and help the more than 15 BFM friends and family represent. Registration is up on HashSpace at https://store.hashspace.com/product.php?productid=16946&cat=256 for Labor Day weekend 2015.

Philadelphia Green Dress Run is March 15th. Registration is up on HashSpace at https://store.hashspace.com/product.php?productid=16996&cat=256&page=1 for the Saturday trail and on-after. We will be Pre-lubing Thursday with the BFM, Friday with the Philly Full Moon and then a fat boy pub crawl on Sunday morning with the Liberty Bell/Philly Phair Weather Hash.

The Philly Hash has the next several trails scheduled so come out and see how they do it on the other side. Check it out www.phillyhash.com every Saturday pack is off by 3pm.

BFM 524 will be at the South Philly Bar and Grille. So while this isn’t a full three weeks of bars being posted in advance, it is progress.

Overheard at the Hash is on Twitter @bfmh3 so you can read it as it happens.

And so Manual Fiesta and Tits of Steel closed yet another entertainingly chaotic circle. There was much rejoicing and singing of Jesus Saves and dancing. The last of us didn’t leave until 1am. We got loud, we got sloppy, we got fun!

As the Hashers are wont to do, Folks gathered from near and mostly from within city limits because SEPTA shut down at 10 PM for some running and some drinking. The newly found location, THE INSTITUTE, was nuzzled between abandoned buildings and creepy parking lo or tennis/basketball courts in no-man’s-land 12th street north of Spring Garden.

Most of my evening before the hash was spent contemplating what cold-weather attire I should sport. The city was basically shut down, public transportation was spotty, and any attempts to walk or run or bike to the run’s start location would be wet. I put on my pearl necklace, four layer of shirts, colorful booty-shorts over spandex running pants, and quickly put batteries in my fleshflashlight. Snowstorm Pax was descending and I refused to take its shit.

Fast forward twenty minutes later, when I realized that it was warm enough to rain, I entered the Institute and stripped in front of my fellow hashers (who were not phased) and muggles (who were already freaked out that so many people wanted to come into the warm bar with its own fireplace just to leave again). Everyone else was much more prepared for the weather than I was, with slick rain gear and plastic bags over their feet. *Look who’s not an idiot!* was the name of the game, and I lost before I got there, everyone else lost when we went out for trail.

Trail was hared by the new GM Gay Matthews Lamb. He left before I got there, and we did not live for a significant period of time after I got there. What was the rush? There was beer, warmth, lovely autohashers — all the things to seduce a group of about-to-be-cold subhumans from leaving. The new RAs were very good about yelling at the top of their (Manual Fiesta’s) lungs to announce the timing of departure. A little too good. They made it seem like they were going to really step up to the plate and do some good for the BFM. When we finally exited the building, we realized this would not be the case. With a new Virgin (Just Janelle) in tow, this group of slip-sliding BFMers was greeted by a chalkless chalk talk and a meaningless explanation of chalk symbols, as if the Virgin was not going to be confused enough. Lucky for them, she was a good sport and was still able to giggle when she announced just Liz made her cum.

FOLLOW THE BLUE DOTS OF CARPENTERS CHALK THAT ARE SUPER SMALL BECAUSE NO ONE BROUGHT REGULAR CHALK TO MIX IT WITH, OH AND DON’T WORRY THAT THERE AREN’T A LOT OF MARKERS! OKAY! GO! — And so the reign of Gay Matthews Lamb began.

Remember how I said it was raining? We all looked like wet, stinky dogs. I felt like a wet, stinky god. Punani Puri was gracious enough to clean up my wet, stinky vomit from a few weekends back without giving me too much shit for it, but then he proceeded to give me a lot more shit for it as we bounced around the abandoned buildings, industrial warehouses, and creepy vacant tennis courts. I’ll buy you something better than the shit you fed me ;-). Barbara Bush, always keeping it classy and sometimes talking in the third person. We hopped around the neighborhood, running on sidewalks that had not been shoveled or sometimes not even walked on before. We jumped over puddles, dunked our sneakers into FEET OF WATER, those GODDAMN LAKES AT THE CORNERS drowned our souls and coated our already black hearts with the grime of Philadelphia. Several people went swimming. The only big wipe out I saw was Just Janelle. Baby girl was damp. I’m talking up to the shoulder in water. It was gross to look at, it was vile to think about, and it must have been that much worse for her. Just Liz offered her the shirt off of her back to make up for such a terrible hash crash, but she was actually classy and graciously declined.

We snaked around the streets above Spring Garden, sprinted on ice not knowing if cars would stop or not, ducked under the old train tracks, only to find ourselves yogging down the bike lane heading east on SG. The puddles from the melting snow stretched out into the street. For those with better footing who did not swim in the street,there was true fear for any sound of a car and its promised tidal wave of puddle splash. We passed the street for my apartment as we went past 7th-6th-5th — this was getting way too long for a half frozen, fully drenched, Pax hash.

The Gleaming red lights of Silk City loomed in the distance and we all popped in, shouting 30 decibels louder than anyone else in the bar/diner/club/long closet. Snuggled at the bar with his PBRs was our newfangled GM. PBRs were passed around as the waitressed bumped into every single hasher sitting at the bar, standing in the aisle, sitting in the booth that we took over without asking, or sitting on someone else who was sitting in the booth that we took over without asking. There was a lot of apologizing for literally not moving out of the way for several painful, socially awkward seconds. Acceptable. Just Janelle was given a LOT OF SHIT for not taking Just Liz’s clean, mostly dry shirt. I was unsure if it was because everyone wanted her to be more comfortable, because they wanted her to feel welcome to the BFM, or because having two temporarily shirtless girls would be a lot more interesting… Sadly, Cause for Blindness and Flounder were pronounced AWOL and an officially missing persons report was filed when they failed to show up at Silk City. GML assured us that he told them exactly where the beer check would be. Several of us thought he was lying, others speculated they went back to the first bar, and still others felt that they probably were making out in a dark ally along the way.

GML was pretty sneaky about trying to get out without us knowing where he would go next, only for him to run in front of the window in front of the booth that we had taken without asking, heading east. Since we knew where he was going, Afternoon Delight kept chit chatting and girl talking in the booth about our regular nonsense while everyone else talked about something that seemed deliriously funny. Groundhod Lay probably showed off the mangled fabric around his feet, which he dubbed a “sneaker.” Just Liz probably mentioned she does Teach for America. Punani Puri probably announced in greater detail that I, in fact, did puke at his house and was annoying for a wasted white girl. In other news, the rain outside was wet.

We shipped off when our RAs felt it was time, urging the most lingering group of hashers that they should take their gross wet bottoms out of the seats at the bar and off the cushions of the booth that we had taken without asking and let the nice people clean. No time was wasted actually looking for marks since we had seen where Gay was going, and when we saw the ON IN, some people praised God and the gods. Our misery would be over. Talk quickly devolved into the etiquette of bar footwear and weather or not it would be okay to take one’s shoes and/or socks off at the bar.
When we went upstairs and there were massive leaks coming from the ceiling, the only beers were shitty, and the only bartender was huddled mega cold because of the draft, many of us knew that the answer was Yes, one in fact Can go shoeless in the 6th largest city in America and still get service. In Febrrrrrruary. Above Spring Garden no-man’s land. Together.

Fuck No. Gay Matthews Lamb hared and he sucked at it. The trail was wet and shitty, there weren’t enough boats and paddles on trail, and too many people felt comfortable and warm for it to be considered a snow hash. Shit, man.

WHO WAS FIRST IN AND WHO WAS LAST IN?

I think Urine Luck and Hole Patrol? Was first? I have no idea, I didn’t write it down because at the time Cause was supposed to be taking notes. She did take notes. But she took them on post-it notes smaller than my thumb. Most of the things she put down were cryptic — like L, CFB F. Which would be Last in, Cause for Blindness and Flounder. I only know that because who else would be last in? But she didn’t have much of a choice because there was literally no more room on the itzy piece of paper. She once told me that her real-life job was moonlighting as an office professional, where I’m guessing she literally take notes for a living… But don’t ask me, it doesn’t make sense.

WAS ANYONE DUMB ENOUGH TO JOIN US FOR THE FIRST TIME?

Yes, my precious, we have a virgin. Just Janelle.
And she looked like a wet, stinky dog. She was much happier when she found out the next hash she comes to is free. We just want to get her hooked. We also want her to cum back when she showered so we have a better memory of her.

NO ONE WAS DUMB ENOUGH TO TRAVEL TO SEE US… this time….

WHO HASN’T BEEN HERE IN FUCKING FOREVER?

Cause for Blindness, I think she was on that list, and Urine Luck… Broken Rod… Punani Puri…. Maybe a couple other people.
The wet stinky dogs ate my homework that was written on baby-sized post-it notes in code that I didn’t come up with and cannot understand.

WHO CAME FOR BEERS BUT NOT FOR SWIMMING POOLS OF SNOW R*N-OFF ON EVERY STREET CORNER?

WHAT SHITTY THINGS DID PEOPLE SAY ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE TO MAKE THEM DRINK THE BEERS??

Chorizo Curtains and Shop & Fuck for leaving
Broken Rod for calling the fire department on a day of Philly emergency (Who does that? What were you even doing?)
Gay, Chorizo Curtains, and S&F for hats in circle
Punani for wearing ski goggles on trail
Afternoon Delight for thinking that drinking before noon on a snow day is unacceptable.
Spare My Finger for being the only breakfast clubber at the party!
Hole patrol didn’t have enough sexy calf for circle, his beautiful legs were so covered it was unacceptable.
Barbara bush and just Liz and Urine Luck for not wearing shoes, or socks — yet we looked like hobbits, but beer also comes in pints!
Tits of steal for not knowing her twin was here (Hey Just Kathryn! Nice Tits-y looking hair!) – when one RA drinks all RAs drink.
Semen on the Poop Deck for turtleneck – just Liz and Manual Fiesta for also wearing a turtle neck.
Cause and flounder for not going to the beer check despite being told where to go
Barbara bush for not knowing manual already drank — just to get her stunt liver, Afternoon Delight.
For Punani Puri complaining that drunk people puke and really really annoying — not once but three times!! (DUDE, I’M SO SORRY!)
Cause for being too naked as she took her pants off and showed us her underthings upwards for 4 times. In the middle of circle.
Gay being called in for not knowing any songs and the current RAs knew so many more than he ever did. — Auschwitz Hole Is That the stunt liver drinks, and when one hole drinks -Hole Patrol!
Cause for only bringing teeny tiny post it’s on her first On-Sec
Broken rod for wearing sweats and not running
Punani for thinking Barbara didn’t earn her pearls (pff, bitch please.)
Some nonsense about songs where hole patrol ended up drinking and looking dumb, what actually happened is lost to time.
Urine luck for wearing pretty pretty Pittsburg hash necklace
Punani for talking about Son of a Goatfucker in circle, even though he moved at the end of the summer. (I’m sure he still looks thirsty…)
For Just Liz not wearing cuter boots, like last week where I, Barbara Bush, refused to tell her that she needed to wear running attire to AFM. (Oopsies! I didn’t know! Also, she got to bond with Cause for Blindness… oh wait, fuck, what have I done)
More Hole Patrol accusing the RAs — seriously WTF.
Tube Cock for wearing “the 2000s turtle neck” — waffle shirts.
Punani for being a fashion forward lumber jack
For ground hog lay for picking up sad girls at the Jewish museum — funeral crashing?– Auschwitz Hole Is That, as the resident Jew speaking on all things Jewish, says it’s acceptable. All Jews drink either way.

WHAT RANDOM STUPID BUT PROBABLY SUPER FUN THINGS DO PEOPLE WANT TO ANNOUNCE?

Do shots don’t get shot — tomorrow at urban saloon. Aaaaaand, that already happened. I had a man to buy me dinner instead of dodging bullets. By the snap chats I got, I made the wrong choice.

It was February 6th, 2014. The world prepared to usher in the Winter Olympics against the backdrop of terrorist threats and poor accommodations, President Obama nominated openly gay judge Darrin Gayles for federal judgeship, and Jay Leno once again stepped down from his seat as host of the Tonight Show for the second time. So many of these things resembled the events of the BFM’s somethingth Anal General Meeting (I think it was our 10th) on what was yet again a brutally cold night in the City of Philadelphia which has become all too commonplace this winter season. There were sporting activities under snow laid conditions with threats of “It’s fucking cold so this trail better be short!” Members of the BFM with alternative sexual preferences (mainly masturbation, sadomasochism, and I am pretty sure bestiality) were nominated to dishonorable positions. And finally those who held aforementioned positions were stepping down, some for the second time in as many years.

So many of the BFM were in attendance to lay witness to the shit show that is our anal event including: Chef Boy or Horse, Gay Mathews Lamb, Shop & Fuck (THAT’s ME!), C-Men ++, Taco…I Barely Know Her, Rear Engineer, Spare My Finger (Auto), Tits of Steel, Barbara Bush (Auto), Urine Luck, Groundhogs Lay, Rubber Ripper, Chorizo Curtains (Auto), Manual Fiesta, Sideshow Bob Job (Auto), Cause for Blindness, Just Liz (Half Auto?), Vaginacologist, Flounder, Semen on the Poop Deck, Bareback Mountain (Auto), Pissing in a Bottle (Auto), Lump Neck Muncher, Wishboner, Splash Back, Just Alicia, Just Angie, Tube Cock, Just Gary (not for long), Hold the Sausage (Auto), Midnight Tranny to Georgia, Jug Stains, Can You Hear Me Now, Jewbacca, 23rd Cumosome (Auto), Auschwitz Hole Is That (Auto), He’s A Lesbian, Cumming Tonight, Up Her Ali, Just Ozzy, Uncle Bad Touch via Cell Phone (Christ, we can’t get rid of this guy even when he leaves of his own volition), Stocking Stuffer and Michael Jack-off. Apologies to anyone else I missed but you guys need to do more crazy shit so I can remember you were there.

So we all gathered that evening at the wonderful Bru Craft & Wurst on the 1300 block of Chestnut. A lovely establishment which welcomed us with open arms, reserved tables, and a lovely helpful wait staff. If only they knew the havoc we were about to unleash within the walls of their establishment I am sure they would have had second thoughts. It was brought to our attention earlier that day that it is tradition that the outgoing GM lays the last trail as a dead trail so that we can keep the pack together and on-on schedule. As we all know Chef is not all that outgoing by his 1.5 year reign as GM as an example. But none the less our fearful leader laced up, gabbed his flour bag full of balls and some painters tape and headed on out. I accompanied Chef on his travels so as to witness the end of an era and so I can bring you the blow by blow of the trail. He bounded out the back door of Bru and decided to head down an alley which was no more than a crack in the wall south to Sansom. This proved to be the first challenge for the pack as when trail started a disheveled young miscreant (resembling any number of hashers) was standing in entrance of that slim alley having a smoke, but leave it to Groundhogs Lay to be at ease shimmying past this person as they both had similar facial hair with which to bond over.

Our hare then hopped on down to Broad where he proceeded to lay trail down the center of traffic leading straight north to City Hall and right on through where he laid an check plain as day in the open space and then shot across traffic on his way to Love Park…and of course a member of the local teamsters union proceeded to park his truck right on top of the check as if he were in cahoots with our hare. And yet the pack somehow managed not to be thwarted by our tricksy hare and found their way on-on. The hare still up to some more scheming laid down a right awful circle jerk round the fountain in Love Park before leading trail west over 16th through the Penn Management Center grounds over to 17th where he took us back south over the suburban station concourse down to Market Street and then over to the Clothespin thus completing what was an even larger circle jerk around the whole City Hall area. CREEP. Now I wasn’t there for the majority of the pack that found their way down into the underground by the Clothespin where trail headed but when I came through later I found a very confounded Manual Fiesta who usually leads the pack scratching his head around the top of the steps.

Now trail was particularly confusing in the underground as our hare had to elude the transit authority and probably homeland security as he slapped painter’s tape anywhere he could in order to lead the pack through the concourse west crossing beneath trail and over to the 18th and Arch exit where he then sent the pack past our former half year GM’s last abode(what the fuck was that guy’s name?) and then on over to the parkway where he again went west past the science museums until he eventually brought us to BEER! Cherry Street Tavern, or as our Hare had mentioned earlier in the day, “Jose Graces’ favorite under the radar bar.” Not so under the radar when our thirst ravenous and bitterly cold yet sweaty pack arrived. So there was BEER!, pictures, and a lot of flirting, ball busting, and cursing of the cold still to be had.

Trail then went south out of Cherry Street down to Walnut then back east to Rittenhouse Sq where the Hare mercifully avoided another circle jerk and sent us straight to Locust and then down into the PATCO underground so as to keep the pack warm. Such a merciful hare. Once trail found the Broad St concourse it was pretty much straight on in to finally rejoice in the AGM festivities where there was BEER! Food. BEER! Music. BEER! Hot, sweaty, sexy people. AND BEER! Eventually once everyone’s thirst was quenched and bellies full (and meter’s paid) it was time for…

CIRCLE:HARES: Chef Boy or Horse (and I may have had a hand in his despicable trail)FIRST IN/LAST IN: Hole Patrol / Semen On The Poop DeckVIRGINS: Just Alicia and Just Angie both made cum by our sinfully sexy Splash Back (thank you for providing us two more sexy bodies for the rest of the debaucherous pack to gawk at)VISITORS: We sadly had none…fuck’em. We would have called Lumpy and Wishboner in but we didn’t want to get kicked out of the bar before mismanagement was announced…plus they are here more often than me.CUM LATELYS: Urine Luck (I was in another city…lame), Bareback Mountain (I had work and school…lame), Pissing In A Bottle (I had school…lame), Lump Neck Muncher (I am too sexy for you losers…true), Wishboner (I am too wanted by other hashes…lame), Splash Back (I had school…lame), Tube Cock (I am Canadian), Midnight Tranny To Georgia (of course he has a really cute excuse), Stocking Stuffer (I was growing a beard…lame), Rear Engineer (I was working…in my garage in a super awesome new BEER! concoction…SHARE…lame), Can You Hear Me Now (I have been doing this since before you were born, give me a break…NO…lame), He’s A Lesbian (I was jumping out of moving objects thousands of feet in the air…blah blah blah…lame), Michael Jack-Off (I hash once a year…smart), Up Her Ali (I’m Happy…well we’re not so get your sexy ass back here!)AUTO HASHERS: SEE ABOVENEW TO THE BFM THIS YEAR: Barbara Bush, Groundhogs Lay, Rubber Ripper (absorbed), Just Liz, Just Alicia, Just Angie, Just Ozzy, Vaginacologist (absorbed), Cumming Tonight (absorbed), Hole Patrol (absorbed), and Just Gary (who knows where the fuck that guy came from)NAMED BY THE BFM THIS YEAR: Barbara Bush (something about waking up in the middle of nowhere with pearls on), Groundhogs Lay (something about doing the same thing a year later and not remembering), Sideshow Bob Job (are you kidding me…just look at that amazing hair of hers…sort of self-explanatory), Chorizo Curtains (formerly Quart for an amazing trick she performed…now CC for a contest she won or possibly lost), Stocking Stuffer (something about a pair of missing stockings at the Hash NYE party at the Green St. Apt.), Bareback Mountain (because he’s sexy and he knows it and he ain’t afraid to show it), Pissing In A Bottle (cause when a mans gotta go a mans gotta go), Auschwitz Hole Is That? (BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…that shits just funny), Just Gary (NOT YET GARY…be patient)BFM HASHERS OVER A YEAR LESS THAN FIVE: Chef Boy or Horse, Gay Mathews Lamb, Shop & Fuck (THAT’s ME!), C-Men ++, Taco…I Barely Know Her, Spare My Finger, Tits of Steel, Urine Luck, Chorizo Curtains, Manual Fiesta, Sideshow Bob Job, Semen on the Poop Deck, Bareback Mountain, Pissing in a Bottle, Stocking Stuffer, Michael Jack-Off, Lump Neck Muncher, Splash Back, Tube Cock, Jewbacca, 23rd Cumosome, Auschwitz Hole Is That, He’s A Lesbian, Up Her AliBFM HASHERS FIVE YEARS AND MORE: Rear Engineer (a little over too long), Cause for Blindness (since the beginning of time), Flounder (since before the beginning of time), Wishboner (she was at the second one), Hold the Sausage (since before things got really interesting), Midnight Tranny to Georgia (since when things really did get interesting), Jug Stains (since when shit just got real), Can You Hear Me Now (I think I heard he was the first hare…sucker!)THIS YEARS BFM TRAVEL HASHERS: The acts I bared witness to from these truly depraved human beings caused me many a night waking in pools of sweat from nightmares with only the satisfaction of masturbating to their pretty little faces allowing me to fall back to sleep: Chef Boy or Horse, Gay Mathews Lamb, Shop & Fuck (THAT’s ME!), C-Men ++, Taco…I Barely Know Her, Rear Engineer, Spare My Finger, Tits of Steel, Barbara Bush, Urine Luck, Groundhogs Lay, Rubber Ripper, Chorizo Curtains, Manual Fiesta, Cause for Blindness, Vaginacologist, Flounder, Semen on the Poop Deck, Bareback Mountain, Pissing in a Bottle, Lump Neck Muncher, Wishboner, Splash Back, Just Gary, Hold the Sausage, Jug Stains, Jewbacca, Auschwitz Hole Is ThatPRIOR YEARS MISMANAGEMENT: These are the people who really got the ball rolling on fucking it all up: Chef Boy or Horse, Rear Engineer, Tits of Steel, Cause for Blindness, Tube Cock, Hold the Sausage, Midnight Tranny to Georgia, Can You Hear Me Now, He’s A Lesbian, Up Her AliCURRENT YEAR MISMANAGEMENT: Chef Boy or Horse, Gay Mathews Lamb, Shop & Fuck (THAT’s ME!), C-men ++, Taco…I Barely Know Her, Rear Engineer, Spare My Finger…Seriously? That is all that is left? I would say we were decimated but we lost far more than one in ten. ACCUSATIONS: There were many and I promise in the future I will record them all, but amongst them were Lumpy and Wishboner for being fully clothed (BOOO), and same goes for Bareback Mountain (again BOOO). Just Liz, Tits of Steel, Just Gary, Just Ozzy and Chef for being soulless gingers. Spare My Finger, Hold the Sausage, Up Her Ali for Gossip Girls (and 23rd Cumosome and Chorizo Curtains for Gossip Girls guilty by association). Tube Cock, Rear Engineer, and Manual Fiesta for being the Gossip Boys. Manual Fiesta and Hole Patrol (the OAAC who actually ran before coming to the hash) for after only a month of living together are already dressing matchy matchy, and same goes for Urine Luck and Groundhogs Lay (they are BFFs and just so darn cute), and while on the subject of matching there were the gleaming domes of Tube Cock, Just Gary, and He’s A lesbian. And of Course Barbara Bush for insisting to Just Liz that she not get dressed in running attire as there was no way there was going to be a trail for AGM…and instead of just auto-hashing Just Liz actually did trail in civilian clothes while the Bush came later and auto-hashed. In a similar story Splash Back’s virgins, while instructed to wear running attire showed up without (in a ploy to get into Splash Back’s pants which she happily obliged) but without any sneakers to lend, both virgins did trail in Uggs.2014 MISMANAGEMENT: And with that Chef climbed up onto the table and made his final proclamation as GM of the BFM that the newly erected officers were: HABIDASHER: Chef Boy or Horse…wait a minute, who was doing the vote count again? HASH CASH: Where’s My….what? Really? If you say so. Hole Patrol (I am pretty sure everyone voted for Britney Spears but this was the prettiest bleach blond we could find to accept the position) ON-SECTS: Barbara Bush (If she is half as funny with the written word as she is in circle then trash will be half as funny as she is in circle), Taco…I Barely Know Her (returning to pile up the trash much like he did last year), Cause for Blindness (we’ve seen so many sides of Cause, might as well see what’s in her head too), and Shop & Fuck (THAT’S ME!) RELIGIOUS ADVISORS: Tits of Steel and Manual Fiesta. BAHAHAHAHAHAHA…they actually accepted the positions…HAHAHAHAHA. GRAND MASTER: And finally, the most depraved and masochistic of us all was determined to be…GAY MATTHEWS LAMB…Three years in a row the GM will be named after a farm animal.

ANNOUNCEMENTS:
I will be posting “Overheard At The Hash” live via twitter each week. Follow me Shop & Fuck @shopnfuck on twitter. Also tweeting updates of where we are so you can come join us.

DO SHOTS, DON’T GET SHOT with the Philly Full Moon Hash next Friday February 14th gathering at 7:30 at Urban Saloon in the Fairmont section of Philly. Pack off at 8. This is quite possibly the best single hash of the year…unfortunately nobody ever remembers what happened so we will never really know.

Tube Cock’s balls are salty and sagging as illustrated with great dramatic gestures by none other than Tube Cock himself.

Come hare the Philly Hash. Every Saturday somewhere in the greater metropolitan area until summer when it is every Tuesday. SIGNUP TODAY! Plus Rear Engineer is the new GM…so its got that going for it.

It is Bareback Mountain’s Birthday…so side-side we did do. And as hottest ladies this side of anywhere proceeded to hoist our musclebound man from Crossfit for his side-side song as lead by new RA Tits of Steel, it was discovered that the little shit wore loafers…LOAFERS…and for that his shoe was removed and handed over to the wait staff where they promptly hid it in the kitchen…cause that’s where she likes!

Just Gary is leaving us and heading to back to Korea where he came from and wants to let us know he may be back in the summer but had a great time with us…what a dumb fuck…and for that we immediately brought him into circle to be…

NAMED: Now because we had all been drinking a lot of BEER! from the open bar we really didn’t have a whole lot of time we wanted to spend on this mush mouthed soulless ginger from Korea so we named him the most obvious thing we could…and so we welcome to the BFM…UNCLE FIST HER…He’s a hasher, He’s true blue…

And thus was circle closed by our new RA’s and well into the night hashers drank BEER!, laughed, danced, sang, flirted and creeped out the teachers that didn’t have school tomorrow because of power outages. Since there were so many beautiful hounds and harriets out that night yours truly couldn’t help but get into the fray right up until everyone got so smashed that they began smashing their glasses against the floor telling me it was time to high tail it out of there (glasses were smashed by accident and not on purpose mind you as that is a major hash foul as our virgins are well aware, BEER! only goes in you or it goes on you…)

I looked up the lyrics of this song. At first, they made no sense; they were just a bunch of words strung together. Upon further review, they still made no sense. It was something about a girl deceiving a guy wearing sunglasses which allow him to see the deception but he doesn’t care because she has control over him. A bunch of words strung together. Have I mentioned that I’m an engineer and not a poet? If I were a singer/songwriter, my music would probably focus on bodily functions or women. Or maybe both… (with a rusty spoon anyone?)

Anywho, most of the BFM sported sunglasses or many different varieties. I honestly can’t remember who wore what considering this trash is about 6 months late. I’m pretty sure there were a few harriers/harriettes doing their best Corey Hart impression.

Midnight Tranny had volunteered to hare trail before even showing up to the hash. And Shop n Fuck was on a mission to get the pack out on time. So, MTtG headed out to lay trail at 7:55, chalk talk was called at 7:57, and the pack was off promptly at 8:00. This was fairly impressive. So impressive that Cmen++ showed up at 8:03 and wondered where the pack was.

During Chalk Talk, we welcomed our new virgin, Just Emily, in the rain. Shop n Fuck went at a snail’s pace explaining the marks while the mob started to get wet and cold. Eventually we were off!

Trail meandered south and eventually east through queen village via good trail down alleys, across streets, and in totally random directions. It was enough to keep the entire pack together. I’m fairly certain that Cause was at the middle of the pack for most of trail. Well, until the on-in at least. The mob eventually got to Front St and headed north after checking in every single “normal” direction the pack goes. After some back and forth on 2nd and 3rd, we went past several potential BNs such as Drinker’s and Sugar Moms. Since there was no BN at chalk talk, the pack figured that this was just a cruel tease. I believe the comment was, “Ah, typical Rear trail laying.” But to our surprise, after a quick oopdioop to the north, we arrived at Lucy’s Hat Shop for some watered down meisterchow. (I tried to find a clip of the scene from PCU where Droz is going on about having a party, but youtube doesn’t have a large collection of clips from college cult classics of the 90s. And now I feel old.)

After the BN, Midnight informed us that he was out of flour already. So, he used someone’s chalk to lay a mostly straight back trail as per the BFM norm established during the Gynocracy era.

Circle:

Hares: Midnight Tranny to Georgia

Virgins: Just Emily (Manual Fiesta made her cum)

Vistors/Transplants: None as far as I’m concerned. Although Not In My Hair seems to think he’s a visitor.

• Just Deborah for forgetting the BFM’s name.
• Manual Fiesta for a race-ist T-shirt.
• Chases Boyz for paying his parking meter while on trail.
• Tits of Steel for wearing running clothes and autohashing
• Hole Patrol for extreme over achieving ass clownery – he got lost on the way back after sprinting on in, only to meet back up with the pack as they got back.
• Just Deborah for thinking Horny Hands had a race-ist t-shirt on
• Side Show Bob Job for a poor Jacqueline Bisset in The Deep impersonation
• Rear Engineer for putting his hand up and not putting out
• Shop n Fuck for not beating off twice to someone (notes are scribble)
• He’s a Lesbian for knowing who Jacqueline Bisset is and having her picture on his phone.
• Tits of Steel for not bringing the Back Street Boys to the hash
• Hole Patrol for being jealous of Tits of Steel getting to hang out with the Back Street Boys
• He’s A Lesbian for trying to get all the girls wet
• Shop n Fuck for not showing off his tick bite (which was followed with an all the girls who got wet looking at said tick bite drink)
• He’s A Lesbian for making motorists horny
• S&M for having a “going away” party and he’s still here.
• Hole Patrol for looking like “Hitler’s wet dream” (Thank you HAL)
• One Inch In for autohashing late
• Cock Cock for losing her license on trail. Due to the egregiousness of this crime against the hash, Cock Cock was given a giant mystery shot for her down down. The best guess for what it was: Roofie Colada Cement Mixing Mind Eraser
• He’s A Lesbian, Midnight Tranny, and Rear for matching goatees
• S&M Man for giving us a ton of new songs and then leaving the city.
• Everyone not wearing sunglasses drank.
• Uncle Bad Touch for sporting a bowling shirt, which was determined later to be a hash shirt. It was too late as UBT had already done his down down.
• Just Deborah received a side-side for her birthday that happened at prom but didn’t tell anyone.

Circle ended at 9:37pm. Shop n Fuck was quite proud of this. 3 mile trail, beer check, and circle in an hour and 37 minutes. It ended so early, in fact, that S&M man had to tell everyone to wait at the bar until 10:30 so he could get ready before they could come over for his after party. It probably had a little to do with the fact that the mob didn’t get lost on trail at all.

Overheard at the hash:

Just Emily: “The reason Manual Fiesta didn’t run trail is because I locked his keys in his car.”